


Give Me A Twirl

by ho_sehun



Category: C-Pop, EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Smut, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ho_sehun/pseuds/ho_sehun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started because of Jongdae, as most things did, Lu Han was learning. Lu Han learns that Minseok has gone undercover as a dancer a few times. Private dances all around!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me A Twirl

**Author's Note:**

> This was a part of a larger (super realistic totally not just made up) mafia!au thought of by novilunar and I that may or may not ever be finished. I didn't want to let this just sit around though, so here it is.

It all started because of Jongdae, as most things did, Lu Han was learning. He'd been in the bar nursing a drink. Okay, a coke. Okay, a crappy coke. The one coke that was on tap, but it was free, and Lu Han still wasn't quite able to get over the need to take advantage of as many freebies he could get, even though Minseok dragged him to the nearest station and buys him a soda any time he walked in on Lu Han holding a glass to his chest.

But it had all started with Jongdae talking about renovating the bar. “Maybe I should get some new floors, add in a disco ball and a pole. I could probably convince Minseok to work it a couple of nights a week.” And Lu Han, who had thought he'd finally mastered the art of not paying attention to a single word Jongdae was saying, fumbled his glass in his hands before setting it down hard on the table and staring at Jongdae, blinking. Jongdae, then, of course laughed at him until he had to sit down, then would barely answer Lu Han's poking.

Which is what lead him to right now, leaning against the wall of his and Minseok's room – watching Minseok fixing his makeup in the mirror, smudging his eyeliner with a thumb, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth – as he rehearsed his question over in his head.

“I-” he coughed, cleared his throat, started again. “I was talking to Jongdae, earlier-”

“Talking to Jongdae?” Minseok looks amused as he moves to the other eye, brushing at the inner corner.

“Listening to Jongdae,” Lu Han assents.

“Still a bad idea,” Minseok replies, eyes flicking over to meet Lu Han's in the mirror, corners of his lips tilting up in amusement.

“Yeah...” Lu Han clears his throat again, “It's just. He said something about a club? You worked at?” His voice is embarrassingly high at the end, but he doesn't cough again. The last time he had a conversation like this with Minseok, he'd gotten a bag of throat drops dropped on his stomach the next morning.

Minseok finally turns around from the mirror and slinks – slinks – towards him, and this always means embarrassing moments for Lu Han this was a terrible idea. “Chen said that?” He leans forward, not quite in Lu Han's personal space, but close, “Something you wanted to know about it?”

Lu Han squeaks. “It's nothing. It's just- I heard and I was wondering and I just wanted. Did you dance?” Everything comes out rushed and tumbling, Korean syllables suddenly awkward in his mouth in a way that they hadn't been since his first year of college, but there's not a single Mandarin word in there, and he takes a distracted second to be proud of that, even as Minseok smirks and leans in closer, their noses almost touching.

“I did,” he answers, his voice almost a conspiratorial whisper, but doesn't offer anything else. Instead, he leans his weight on his arm, which is currently on the wall beside Lu Han's head, close enough that his bleach dried hair moves against it whenever Minseok shifts his weight.

Minutes pass with just the sound of breathing, Lu Han staring directly at the dip at the bottom of Minseok's throat, where neck meets collarbone. Minseok shifts again, and Lu Han has this horrible feeling that he's going to leave, thinking that this is just another thing in this new world that Lu Han's uncomfortable with, so he lets his next sentence rush out in a single breath.

“Would you?” Minseok stills, and Lu Han finally raises his eyes in time to see the fluttering movement of Minseok's pupils widening and retracting in a swift movement. It makes him feel brave, even a little powerful, every time he sees that he can affect Minseok this way, even when Lu Han worries that he's so often too boring for Minseok's own exciting way of living. “For me?”

Minseok lets out a slow breath, and it's warm against Lu Han's cheek, familiar like Minseok has quickly become. But then he's pulling away and Lu Han lets out a surprised noise, his hand reaching out to trail fingers against the end of Minseok's jacket sleeve. Minseok laughs, not meanly, and leans back in to kiss Lu Han once on the lips.

“I'll be right back,” then he leaves the room.

Lu Han shuffles his feet, awkwardly, all the confidence he had gained seemed to have left along with Minseok, and he was left, still leaning against the same wall, brain completely trying to process what exactly just happened. Before he's able to even get halfway through the events, there's cackling from the hallway and a laughed “Fuck you,” from Minseok, then the door is pushed open again and Minseok is carrying in, of all things, a wooden chair that Lu Han recognizes from the bar. He sits it down right at the end of the bed and manhandles Lu Han down into it, then he makes a move for the small stereo in the corner of the room, but stops midway through, turning around and looking at Lu Han in contemplation.

“Should I wear some heels?”

Lu Han chokes.

“You don't- I mean, if you want to. But you don't have to go out of the way I just wanted-” and he doesn't know how to continue. I just wanted you to dance sounds so harsh in his head, sounds like he imagines the men Minseok has to entertain from time to time do; and it's not that he's upset about what Minseok does – Lu Han can tell that he does get enjoyment out of his job; out of the power that it gives him and out of just what he can get out of it (even if it is sometimes a life, and even if it does still bother Lu Han a little).

He doesn't need to continue though, because Minseok is tapping his lip with his fingers and looking him directly in the eye, all heat and passion, and Lu Han has to shift in his seat a couple of times to get comfortable.

“Next time,” he promises, then hits the on button with the same finger that had just been on his mouth, and a dance song that Lu Han doesn't recognize (which often happens with Minseok's music) fills the room and Lu Han's glad, because his thoughts were getting way too incomprehensible.

He doesn't have much time to catch up with his thoughts, though, because Minseok is walking towards him, each step deliberate as he puts one foot in front of another before stopping right in front of him and turning, so Lu Han's face is directly in line with where the sleek muscle of Minseok's back would fade into the curve of his ass if his jacket and shirt were off.

As if Minseok is in tune with Lu Han's thoughts, he starts sliding the jacket down his arms, not letting it go past his elbows, bunching up around his waist, and reveling smooth shoulders uncovered by his white tank-top. Lu Han is focused on watching how the muscles in Minseok's upper arms shift as his shoulders move, up and forward and back, to the bass, and is jerked to awareness of the rest of Minseok's body when he hears the sudden shifting of feet and then the sound of hands running down fabric as Minseok runs his hands down his own thighs then pushes them apart above the knees, leaving his hands resting there as he lowers himself down, putting his strength in his thighs and calves, and Lu Han can hear the word heels running through his head again.

Lu Han barely has time to picture Minseok's legs, already flexed from the position heels would put his calves in, tightening more with the added weight, before he's pulled from his thoughts by Minseok dropping his jacket on the floor beside them and looking over his shoulder with hooded eyes, and oh, Lu Han never factored in the fact that Minseok would, actually, be taking his clothes off, but of course he would. Where Lu Han would stutter at even the thought of doing this without having some build up to it, Minseok was perfectly comfortable with his body and his sexuality. Lu Han has to suck in a breath to stop from making a very embarrassing noise when Minseok smirks at him; he can never hide anything from his boyfriend, especially things like this. Minseok seems to have a sixth sense about anything that involves Lu Han's pleasure.

Minseok raises himself to his full height slowly, pulling his hands up his side as he does and pulls his shirt with him until Lu Han is staring Minseok's bare waist, which is moving in one smooth motion, serpentine, before Minseok turns around and does a sort of rotation with his hips, his hands fisted up in his tank top behind his head, before he drops it, letting it land on the floor with a sound that Lu Han can't hear over the music, but he can feel it ripple through him anyway. Minseok runs one of his hands through the hair on his head, fingers carding through it and Lu Han can see the muscles in his forearm move as he actually tightens his grip a little bit, pulling at his hair before cocking his head at Lu Han, whose throat goes dry.

“You can touch me,” Minseok murmurs, voice deep in a way that it only gets after they've been in bed for ages, running fingers down skin, and Lu Han realizes just how close they are right now, that he can feel the stutter of Minseok's breath. He pulls his hands away from the chair, where he finds they've been gripping, tight enough that he can feel a temperature change in the tips of his fingers, and places them lightly on Minseok's hips, feeling both the texture of Minseok's waistband and the smooth warmth of his skin. Minseok releases a sigh, soft, and puts his hands on Lu Han's, runs them up to his elbows and back once before moving both of their hands, slowly, to where his waist begins to flare outward to his chest, then lets out another sigh, deeper this time, with more voice behind it.

Lu Han can feel Minseok's muscles shift and tighten under his hands as the other moves his hips and waist, almost independently of each other in a way that he wouldn't believe if he weren't seeing it right in front of him. Minseok raises his arms, again, folding them at the elbows and resting his hands between his shoulder blades and lowers himself again. Lu Han doesn't let his hands follow Minseok's body, instead letting them graze upwards until they're just under Minseok's arms. He pushes his hands back, around to his shoulder blades, then up, hooking his fingers on the other male's shoulders and pulling him forward until Minseok is able to rest all of his weight on Lu Han's knees. He runs his feet along the floor, forward, until they're level with the back legs of the chair, dancing even now, stationary on Lu Han's lap.

Lu Han can barely handle it, burying his face against Minseok's chest both to hide his red cheeks and to mouth at his collarbone. Minseok relocates his hands from behind his own head to the back of Lu Han's, thumbs running against his temples as he murmurs encouraging words against the top of Lu Han's ear.  
“So responsive,” Minseok is saying, making sure puffs of air hit Lu Han's ear, “the way you turn red for me. The way you look at me, like I'm everything you've ever wanted.”

“You are,” Lu Han assures, trailing the tip of his nose up Minseok's neck, his lips wetly dragging behind, and Minseok lets his hands meet behind Lu Han's neck and tugs the hair at the nape of his neck, lightly, until Lu Han looks up, right into Minseok's eyes. And Lu Han is surprised by the red in Minseok's cheeks, by how shallow his breathing is, and he doesn't know if it's the dancing that has done this to him, or if it's dancing for Lu Han. He vigorously hopes it's the latter, then drags his fingers down Minseok's back and he knows without looking that there are light pink marks left behind on Minseok's pale skin. He can't keep his hands still as they are, though, because even now he can still feel Minseok's muscles shifting as he keeps his hips and waist twisting, just a little, to the beat of the music; the same song, probably, but Lu Han has no sense of time anymore.

To keep his fingers from jumping all over Minseok's torso, he moves his hands to frame either side of Minseok's neck, thumbs resting on the corner of either side of Minseok's jaw, where it meets his ear, and kisses him. Minseok hums against his lips, and Lu Han feels a thrill, because he's sure that it's dancing for him that has gotten Minseok like this. He can hear Minseok making the soft little sounds in the back of his throat that had actually startled Minseok the first time he'd made them because it was the “first time I've ever done that,” and “trust me Lu Han, I have had plenty of good sex, there's just something about you-” (Lu Han had cut off the rest of Minseok's sentence by making him make more of those little sounds.)

Minseok's noises - his 'Lu Han noises,' Lu Han always calls them in his head; he likes to think Minseok calls them that too - always embolden him, and he pulls his mouth away from Minseok's, thrilled when tries to follow him, and rests his forehead on Minseok's, pulling his mouth away enough that their lips are barely brushing as they breath.

“Is this how you always dance,” he asks, and his lips tickle against Minseok runs his hands down Lu Han's chest and up again his nails push against his shirt when when he drags them down a second time, “or is this for me?”

“You,” Minseok groans, like he always does when Lu Han gains enough confidence to do more than just follow everything Minseok says, moving one hand up to cup against the side of Lu Han's face to drag him back and pull his lower lip into his mouth and scrape it over with his teeth, and his other hand down to press down where Lu Han's pants are feeling too tight. “It's always you. I'd do anything for you. Fuck, I want to blow you.” And early on, this would have thrown Lu Han, made him wonder if Minseok were trying to be less emotional, but over time he's learned that, sometimes, this is how Minseok shows emotions, when he's feeling too much.

“I love you,” Lu Han says, lifting his hips as much as he can with Minseok's weight still on his knees.

Minseok doesn't answer, not verbally; but he raises himself up, enough that he Lu Han has to look up, almost to the ceiling, when Minseok kisses him, deep, biting at his lips and searching deep Lu Han's mouth like he were physically trying to pull sounds out of him. Minseok's fingers curl against his jaw, while the fingers of his other hand works at Lu Han's fly. At the same time, he's moving his feet and legs back, and Lu Han can't believe that he'd never pegged Minseok for a dancer before now, the way he carries himself. He figures that he's always just thought that it came from confidence.

He stops analyzing his boyfriend's movements when Minseok drops to his knees in front of the chair, looking for all the world like there was nothing he'd rather be. The first few times Minseok had blown him he'd been sure there was no way he could get any enjoyment from this, but once, after Lu Han had told him that 'he didn't have to' Minseok had described, in detail, everything he felt when his mouth was on someone who he liked to fuck, and, well, Lu Han had never tried to stop him again.

Minseok rests his head on Lu Han's thigh and digs his chin into Lu Han's leg. “I want you to look at me,” he says, a pout in his voice, “like you were when I was dancing. For you.” And he lifts his head and swats at Lu Han's hip, gets him to lift his hips as he pulls down his trousers and shorts, down to his mid thigh. And Lu Han does look at him, right in the eyes, and Minseok smiles, licks his lips, then leans in and runs his cheek up the length of Lu Han while looking up at him through the bangs scattered on his forehead and over his eyebrows. Lu Han reaches down and brushes the hair away with his palm, and Minseok draws back, allows Lu Han to run his fingers over the side of his face where there was a streak of wet and Lu Han marveled as he draws his thumb over it, then looks at his thumb. He'd done that, Minseok had done this to him. He hadn't even realized that he was this hard, so focused on Minseok as he was.

Minseok takes Lu Han's thumb into his mouth, teeth hooked on the knuckle, and licks the end. “On me,” he sighs, when he lets it slip out of his mouth and rest on his bottom lip, “nothing else.”

Lu Han nods.

Minseok smiles and takes both of Lu Han's hands and frames his face with them. “Do what you want,” he all but purrs, then leans down and takes Lu Han into his mouth, all the way, and Lu Han hits the back of his throat and hollows his cheeks, looks up at Lu Han for just a second, then pulls back almost immediately and hovers tonguing at the head of his cock, pushing against the slit. Lu Han pushes his hands into Minseok's hair and tightens his fingers before lifting his hips off of the chair and moves up into Minseok's mouth, just a little, like he knows Minseok wants. Minseok moans, and the vibrations make Lu Han jerk up, harder and farther than he'd expected, and Minseok breaths in hard through his nose.

“Sorry,” Lu Han murmurs, lowering his hips again and loosening his grip on Minseok's hair, but Minseok is faster and closes his hands over Lu Han's, again, making Lu Han pull on Minseok's hair hard enough that he knows Minseok must feel the sting, and moans louder. He releases Lu Han's hands when Lu Han tugs a little bit, and pushes down until Minseok 's mouth is halfway down Lu Han's cock, lips pink and rounded into an 'o.' Minseok runs his hands down Lu Han's thighs, down his shins, then looks him straight in the eye before very deliberately unzipping his shorts and pulling himself out of his underwear, and it makes Lu Han jerk again to think that he's already this hard, just from dancing and his mouth on Lu Han.

Lu Han begins to raise and lower his hips in what he imagines is the same rhythm that Minseok is stroking his own dick. He can feel the pleasure building in his stomach, and hips start jerking erratically. Minseok chuckles around him and swallows him down again, keeping one hand on himself and moving the other behind Lu Han's balls and presses, once, hard against his entrance. Lu Han comes hard, straight down Minseok's throat, and Minseok just swallows around him until he's done, lets him fall from his lips and Lu Han slides out of the chair in a second and grabs Minseok's cock, laces their fingers together and strokes with him.

Lu Han kisses Minseok and can taste himself in the other's mouth. He licks behind Minseok's teeth, the roof of his mouth, then pulls back and breaths against Minseok's still open mouth. “You taste like me,” he moans and Minseok stills, presses his forehead against Lu Han's, and comes, spurting on Lu Han's shirt and thighs. He lets go of Minseok, and they grab at each other's arms, and sit, breathing the other's air, before Minseok kisses Lu Han once more, sweetly, and leans back on his arms, his face smug and satisfied.

“You should probably talk to Jongdae more often.”


End file.
